


Smooth

by FrozenMemories



Category: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:53:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25523173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrozenMemories/pseuds/FrozenMemories
Summary: Nick is watching David shave and decides to take over.
Relationships: David Hodges/Nick Stokes
Comments: 8
Kudos: 9





	Smooth

Watching David shave is a pastime you often indulge in, especially on mornings when time is not a pressing issue.

He's meticulous, systematic, always starting with same exact spot, right below his ear.

Sometimes he lets you do it and you always begin on the opposite side, just to rile him up. You grin at him in the mirror as you step up behind him and take the razor from his hand the moment he's about to touch it to his jaw. He doesn't even tighten his hold but makes a show of rolling his eyes nonetheless.

Your left hand finds his throat, and you guide him backwards until he tilts his head back against your shoulder. The unquestioning trust he expresses makes your chest tight with emotion. He puts himself in your hands even though he knows exactly what you're up to.

As predicted he cocks his head to offer you his right cheek. You press a teasing kiss to it, right above the shaving cream he has evenly applied before. Then you move your hand up to secure his jaw in a firm but gentle grip and maneuver him so you can set the razor to the side of his throat - his left side, naturally. He makes a sound of protest but lets you proceed to slide the blades across his skin.

There's not even any stubble there, you're basically just wiping the foam off. Whereas your face is dark with 5'o clock shadow after merely a day, David could easily go three days before his skin ceases to feel smooth. Regardless, he shaves daily.

You've asked him more than once to let it grow, just to find out what he'd look like with a beard – it’s one of the few things you find really hard to imagine. But he's very adamant and particular about his looks and his grooming routines. He doesn't change his hairstyle either, unless you count letting the graying take its natural course.

By the time you're done with his throat David has closed his eyes. He always watches through narrowed slits those first few strokes you make, before he relaxes under your hands with a sigh of resignation.

You take your time shaving his cheeks, left side first, then the right, and then you slow down even further once you reach the sensitive area above his upper lip. He hums and sucks the beginnings of a smile between his teeth, careful not to give himself away. As if you hadn’t learned to read his face years ago. The thought fills your heart with a warm glow.

Tilting his chin up for better access you finish your journey with one last stroke of the razor before you set it aside and start wiping the remnants of cream off with a wet towel.

He groans, the tone exaggerated and impatient, as if he doesn't thoroughly enjoy the intimacy of your actions, as if he hasn't just moments ago let out small, contented sighs and stuttered breaths.

You smile while your thumb caresses the freshly shaven skin, making sure there's not a single spot you've overlooked – he’d hold that against you for months and bring it up every time you'd try to repeat this experience.

Of course you didn't miss anything. You're thorough in everything you do.

Satisfied with your handiwork you let your lips slide over his smooth jawline and wrap your arms around his middle. Once your mouth reaches his ear you smack a kiss behind it, earning you another put on groan.

You can see him roll his eyes even without looking at him.

"All done," you proclaim, breaking your previous silence.

He turns in your loose embrace and your lips find each other while his hands come up to frame your face.

“What about you, itchy?” he teases in between brief kisses.

You smile and rub your stubble against his cheek, the slight shift in position giving your mouth access to his neck.

“No time for that,” you mumble into his skin. You have no intention of getting rid of your beard any time soon, anyway. You know he doesn’t mind it even when he complains at times about it irritating his skin. Ever since you’ve grown it out for the first time there’s been a specific gleam in his eyes when he looks at you that he can’t and won’t deny.

You kiss him again, deeper this time, your hands sliding down his back to pull him closer. The hitch in his breath makes you regret that you’re going to have to leave for work soon and you let yourself indulge in a few more minutes of lazy kissing before you pull apart with a matching pair of disappointed sighs.

“Tonight,” you promise quietly.

He grins. “I’ll hold you to it.”


End file.
